Page 21 of The Trick

Yes, they are. The good ones and the bad ones.

Which reminds me, as the timer’s beep begins to assault my eardrums, that after I place the latest trophy onto the mantle, I need to text Cam’s business associate to confirm the burial plot I requested to be dug up will be ready in time.

As I lift the now flesh free skull from the acid, my mind begins to race, fantasizing about how beautiful my little hellcat will soon look below ground as she does above it.

* * *

2008

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: You live in Sleepy Hollow right?

FinalGirlRocks_666: Umm yeah, why?

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: Nothing, I’m just surprised you aren’t into the whole Headless Horseman thing. I mean it’s paranormal lore and you live in the heart of it, there is a lot of potential there…

FinalGirlRocks_666: Don’t get me wrong, the paranormal aspect is hot, but I’ve always gravitated towards slashers. No frills, no ghosts. Just evil and a knife. There’s no better match.

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: So that’s why you’re obsessed with Michael Myers? I mean he’s cool and all but there are so many good slashers out there, what is it about him that

FinalGirlRocks_666: Gets me going? =P

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: I mean yea haha.

FinalGirlRocks_666: Ahhh, what a loaded question…where do I start?

FinalGirlRocks_666: Ok, first…the mask…*drool*

FinalGirlRocks_666: Oh and the confident saunter. The fact he knows he can kill whoever his target is. No matter how fast they run. No matter where they hide. Their death belongs to him. It’s inescapable.

FinalGirlRocks_666: Oh and let’s not forget…he doesn’t talk…ever!

FinalGirlRocks_666: Masked, confident, tall, stabby?! AND keeps quiet?!

FinalGirlRocks_666: He’s the ultimate stabby daddy

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: Hey now!

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: As the Boogeyman of Haddonfield *underscore* 31…I take offense to that

FinalGirlRocks_666: Awww, how cute. You’re jealous? What…you want to be my daddy?

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: Among other things =P

FinalGirlRocks_666: Sorry facts are facts Boogeyman. Michael is daddy.

Boogeyman_Of_Haddonfield_31: Noted…

CHAPTERNINE

The tall coffin shaped door in front of where I stand, with the large “Ghouls Dress Here” etched in the center, has me at a real crossroad. The engraved door of the dressing room is where I should be headed so I can finish getting ready for tonight’s Horseman Hollow Duel. However, what Ishoulddo and what Iwantto do are two completely different things. I know it’s going to be a long night ahead. If I’m going to dance my ass off as this year’s Katrina Van Tasselandlive another day asBlairVan Tassel, I’m going to need a drink,or two, before my shift starts.

Feeling summoned by the fully stocked bar to my left, I pivot my heels against the gleaming marbled floors. It’s always been a rule at Satan’s that the dancers aren’t allowed to drink while working, not like that has ever stopped me from sneaking a shot or two during my shift. I mean if murder being illegal doesn’t stop me from partaking in it, the no drinking rule is meaningless to me, plus I’m not technically on the clock yet so screw it.

Moving closer to the bar, my gaze begins to take in the overwhelming number of liquors to choose from. Much of the ambiance at Satan’s Stiletto is modeled after another bar one of the co-owners has in the city named The Sandy Claws. Except Satan’s vibe leans more early to late 2000s slasher nostalgia with some classic horror sprinkled in.

I continue to scan the shelves, about to settle for the bottle of Dogfish Head Compelling Gin that rests near a Michael Myers mask from Halloween II, when a shade of vibrant orange flashes in my periphery. Adjusting my gaze, I see a pumpkin headed Horseman calling my name on the far-left beer tap.

Walking to the other side of the bar, I begin to look for a glass but, of course, there are none in sight. This should probably be my sign to give up and finish getting ready, but now that I’m really craving a pumpkin beer, I’m determined. Turning my back to the row of beer taps, I walk over to the small shelf with some pilsner glasses. Transferring my weight to my tip toes I try grabbing the pilsner glass from the middle shelf when I feel a warm, wrinkly hand on my shoulder.

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